Strawberry Silk Massacre
by The Cake Genius
Summary: This is my fic where I post a bunch of random fluff and crack, mostly LxL and MxM, maybe with a dash of MxN, BxA, or Gevanni/Near thrown in. Anything goes, and I'm writing this stuff for fun. :) To give you an idea of the randomness, it's called "Strawberry Silk Massacre" because I've had that title in my head for a while and wanted to use it.
1. Light's Proposal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. that goes for the other chapters, too.**

**Genre: Romance/Humor/Plot Twist**

**Characters: Light and L**

**A/N: I've wanted to write this one forever! XD Read future chapters for more fluff/crack! :)**

* * *

Light held L's hands and looked him deep in the eyes, his own sparkling softly. Slowly, gently, he knelt on one knee.

L gasped. "Light-kun, what are you...?"

"Ryuzaki," Light said seriously. "From the first day I met you, I knew we were meant to be together- whether as friends, foes, or more, I was not sure. I am, now... There's just something about you that just gravitates me. I can't see straight, I can't look at you without fantasizing about your lipss, and I fall asleep every night thinking of you."

The young man withdrew a small bow from his perfectly ironed pocket. "L, will you marry me?"

L stared at him for one infinite second, his thumb caressing his lower lip. Finally, he admitted, "Light-kun... I like you very much, but I am afraid I must decline."

But then Light opened the box to reveal the biggest, juiciest, reddest Ring Pop he had ever seen in his life. Oh God, it looked delicious...

Well.

Maybe he could reconsider.

* * *

Spoiler Disclaimer: I don't own Ring Pops, either.


	2. Mello's Fcking Chocolate

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: ... Humor?**

**Warnings: Um. Language. O_O**

* * *

"GODDAMNIT, MATT!"

"What?"

"SONUVA BITCH WHORE CUNT FUCKING SHIT!"

"Yes, Mello?"

"SON OF A MUTHERFUCKING SUCKER!"

"What's up, Mells?"

"WHY are there CIGARETTE ASHES on my FUCKING CHOCOLATE?!"

"..."

"TELL ME NOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY PRECIOUS CHOCOLATE OR I'LL SHOOT YOU INTO NEXT WEEK!"

"..."

"WHAT?!"

"... You got chocolate on my cigarettes."


	3. Call Mello Maybe

**Characters: Mello, Matt**

**Genre: Humor/Romance-ish**

**A/N: I pretty much stole this idea from mellosgoggledgamer, who is awesome to the extreme. She says she has written a fic and may post soon, so go check her out! You will NOT regret it! ;D  
**

Mello swung his leather-clad hips to the catchy tune, music turned up to its maximum. "Hey, I just met you... And this is craaazy... But here's my number... So call me, maybe!"

Suddenly, Matt stalked over and ripped the earbuds out of his lover's ears.

"Matty, what the-"

"Who is Maybe?"

"What?!"

"Who is this 'Maybe' that you're singing to? Huh? Is there something I should know? Are you cheating on me?!"

"Wh-"

"I cannot believe you! After all we've been through together! What, is she some blonde Mafia whore?! Tell me, Mells, what is going on between you and Maybe?!"

"I-"

"No, do not even SPEAK to me right now!" Matt huffed and turned away. "I thought you loved me!"

"What the hell?" Mello murmured, knowing what he had to do. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Matt's waist from behind. "I love you, Matty."

"Hmmph."

He kissed his shoulder and started stripping.

...

It took an entire 48 hours for Mello to realize he'd been played.


	4. The World's Flavor

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Fluff/Angst**

L didn't taste a thing. There was a gnawing emptiness inside him that ate away at his heart, so he thought instead of felt, and ate droves of sweets to fill the void. But he didn't taste a single drop of sugar. Everything was the same, a monotonous slew of mindless cases, insomnia, and filling an already-full stomach. He resolved himself to his desolate existence, to being alone, never understood, forever searching. Forever numb.

Then Light entered his life, and suddenly, the world blossomed into flavor again.


	5. Better Man

**Characters: Mello and Matt**

**Genre: Angst/Romance**

**A/N: Inspired by Pearl Jam's "Better Man" and a poem that mellosgoggledgamer wrote called "Love." I sincerely hope she posts her stuff soon, because it's ridiculously sweet and refreshingly well-written. :) **

****I open the door quietly. The only sound in the room is my black boots tapping against the floor as I walk in. None of the lights are on; the apartment is thrown into a muddy blackness. "Matty?" I whisper.

I find him lying crumpled on the couch, an unlit cigarette halfway to his mouth. I panic for the moment, but then see his silhouette rising and falling gently, and relax. The glowing digital clock reads 2:56 AM, and his computer screen is illuminating us, seemingly random numbers scrolling across it. He must have been waiting for me again; this is the first time I've seen him in days.

Silently-I don't want to wake him- I kneel down beside him, and watch his sleeping face. He didn't even take his goggles off. I reach out and take their strap with a feather's touch. He doesn't stir. I gently, slowly pull them off for him and lay them on the coffee table. I know without looking his hair is mussed , and I smooth it down, letting my gloved fingers caress his beautiful face.

That's what he is, my Matt: beautiful, down to the last eyelash gracing his cheekbones, to the last fiber in his body.

I don't think he knows how much I need him. Not just for his hacking skills, or a half-assed escape plan. I need him, just him, to be here with me, to stop the raging storms around me.

And the sad part is, he probably doesn't need me at all. All I do is hurt him. I was selfish to ask him for his help, but I just wanted to see his face again before I died. He really deserves someone much better than me.

It's why I distance myself from him, even- especially- when I want him the most, like right now. If I could, I'd wake him up, and kiss every inch of his milky skin, touch every delicate part of him, make him mine until the sun rose above the filthy streets of LA.

But I can't. I can't hurt him, as much as it hurts me to leave him, as much as it feels like all my heartstrings break over and over every miniscule second that I have to be apart from him. But what would hurt more, would be going too far. Myself, I can bear to hurt; but Matt? Never.

So I place a soft kiss on his forehead and my best chocolate bar on the table, so he'll know I was here. And walk out the door again, not looking back, pretending not to notice how much I'm bleeding.

Pretending not to cry.


	6. Define Anything

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Humor, to brighten you up after that last one. :)**

****Mello knows I'll do anything for him.

So when he storms in in a rage, and I ask, "Whose ass am I kicking, babe?"

He bursts into a steady stream of crazy.

"First, you've gotta hack into Wammy's, after placing the fuse for the atomic bomb inside the plumbing, then you hook up the wires of the computer to the ones in the bomb, put our toaster in the bathtub, but DON'T DRAW THE WATER YET, you do that after..." I watched him calmly with a growing sense of _wtf is my life about_, until he finished with, "and hen the Pentagon will be covered in chocolate sauce, and Near will be drowned in the burning potato chips! Can you do that for me, Matty?"

"Sure," I said easily. "But could you please repeat that part about the sharks?"


	7. Pachelbel

**Characters: L and Light, because OTPOMG-ness.**

**Genre: Fluff/Not-Exactly-Humor?**

**A/N: I am having so much fun, just posting my random crap all over the place LIKE A BOSS. :D And I love Pachelbel's Canon. It's so pretty. ^^ If you haven't heard it, you need to. I cried the first time I did.**

Light awoke to deft, cold fingers trailing up and down his bare chest. His eyes snapped open to see L staring innocently at him, curled up beside him on the bed.

"Ryuzaki?"

"Yes, Light-kun?"

"Are you _playing the piano _on me?"

"Light-kun is highly perceptive."

L added his left hand, and Light stifled a gasp at the cold, though not unwelcome, touch. "That's Pachelbel's Canon."

"Yes."

"How many instruments do you play?"

"Precisely seventeen."

Every time Light thought L couldn't get any more amazing, he was always proved wrong.

He placed his hands on L's skin and began playing a harmonizing melody.


	8. Worked Up

**Characters: Near, about Matt **

**Genre: Analysis, MxM romance/angst**

****Matt seems to be a fairly calm individual. In fact, there have only been two instances when I've seen him get worked up over anything at all.

The first was when Mello left Wammy's House. Matt stormed into my room, brandishing a scrap of paper, presumably some sort of note, and goggles dangling around his neck to reveal the raw panic in his shattered green eyes.

"Where's Mello?!" He choked out, silent tears streaming down his face.

"He left," I told him.

"Where?! I know you know, Near, I know you do! Tell me what happened!"

"He wouldn't have told me, if he didn't tell you."

Matt began to hyperventilate. "But- but-" He looked at the paper again, pleading with his eyes, and ran out again.

"Please close the door behind you," I whispered to my robot, but no one replied.

After that, he appeared to return to his normal, lazy self. He took up smoking; one day he was clean, the next, chaining packs. It was years before I was granted the privilege of seeing him in a state again.

He was running down the halls of the House, cell phone pressed to his ear with one hand, the other holding a Newport box as he pulled out a cigarette with his teeth and shouted into the speaker, "Where are you?! Tell me... wait, wait... I'll be there... I'm coming for you, just keep talking to me, keep awake, I'm right here, I'm coming... Yes... yes, I know... Yes, I do, just pleaseplease don't die..."

I watched him speed off in some blood-red car he'd stolen, and smiled.

Looked like things would get interesting again.


	9. Speeding

**Characters: Matt**

**Genre: Parody**

**A/N: You know that super awesome scene when Matt's in his sweet red Camero, fleeing wildly from Takada's men? Yeah...**

****Matt swerved wildly into the street. Goddammit, why did he have to throw a BOMB? A smoke one, but still. And since he wasn't even a Kira supporter, they were definitely going to kill him now. _Shit!_

__He pictured Mello's smirking face. _Third,_ it taunted him.

_Second,_ Matt mentally shot back.

The police cars now completely surrounded him, and Matt was forced to give up. _Come on, think of a plan, a plan, anything..._

__He reluctantly got out of the car, and said, "Hey, I have information on the Kira case! You need to question me, right? You're not gonna shoot..." Hey, at least it'd be dramatic, like an RPG! Yeah!...

An officer stared at him blankly. "Who said anything about shooting?"

"Uhh..."

"You were speeding, young man. Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, officer!"

The policeman sighed. "I'm afraid we'll still have to take you into custody. The law is the law."

As handcuffs were snapped around his wrists, Matt groaned. Everything considered, it was a pretty lame way to go.


	10. Needed

**Characters: Light and Misa**

**Genre: Angst**

****Misa loved Light, she really did, loved him with all her heart. So she noticed things that people thought she didn't: how little Light protested when he and L were handcuffed, how much more hie seemed to smile, drift away from her; the strange, distracted way he had about him when they were alone together, and how quickly their "lovemaking" would end.

He never used to need her, but now that L was dead, he seemed to.

He would talk to her, for hours on end, and she would try so hard to keep up, but her head would grow painful from the things Light talked talked about: theorems and equations that he never had to write down, the area around a nebula, the finer points of Plato's works. He would look up at her with eyes that contained almost a glimmer of hope, and she would do her best to respond in some intelligent way, but the hop there would always slide away, and the man she loved would just sigh and return to staring gloomily out of the window.

She could pretend to have L's body for him, but she could never resurrect his unique mind.

But at least she was needed.


	11. Amelia

**Character(s): Mello**

**Genre: Angst/Spiritual**

**A/N: ****_Amelia _****is so amazing. I read this line, and I thought of Mello. I just wanted to share my opinion on his rosary, because I think he's rather succeeded in confusing us all.**

****"... And yet, as it may be managed, there is not so much as some People are apt to imagine it; for he need not kiss the Book, and then pray where's the Perjury? But if the Crier is is sharper than ordinary, what is it he kisses? Is it anything but a Bit of Calves-skin? I am sure a Man must be a very bad Christian himself, who would not do so much as that to save the Life of any Christian whatever..."

-Mr. Murphy, from _Amelia _by Henry Fielding

* * *

When I read these words as a child, I didn't understand their true meaning. But now, I can never kill a man, even a random subordinate, without my rosary feeling just a little heavier on my chest. The weight adds up over time.

I think I might have been Catholic at some point; I know I thought myself to be. I prayed every night, and sometimes during the day. I prayed for more chocolate (when I was little), I prayed that I would be first, I prayed that the path would still bring me to Heaven, I prayed that God would spare Matt's life in the process. I believed that I believed.

Now, I've been forced to squash every illusion of God I've ever had, shove my faith down into the crevices of my heart. There's no way I could do the things I do without intense fear of the Hell I knew would be waiting for me.

My existence now revolves around beating my rival, and being his exact opposite. He chose the side of the light, so I chose the side of the dark; he wears white, baggy pajamas, so I wear tight, black leather; he stays inside, so I immerse myself in the world. I do it all to be a contradiction, to confuse people, force them to look twice at me, never able to figure me out. As complex as I seem, this one defining motive makes me surprisingly simple. Even I am not sure what I am under all of this, who I would be under all this shit.

Sometimes, I feel like I don't know anything. I always shove this thought away before it can take its proper grip.

This is why I still wear my crucifix: you would never expect me to, after all, so why do I? Why do I believe in a fate that will destroy me?

I just want to be noticed.

But even though I tell myself I'm not faithful, I couldn't help praying for Matt when he died.


	12. Better Man 2

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Romance/Angst**

**A/N: Sequel to "Better Man," in which Matt narrates and Mello returns.**

**I really am sadistic as an author. O_O**

I wake up blearily, and rub my eyes.

Wait-where are my goggles? I bolt up and look around. I soon spot them on the coffee table, carefully placed on top of a chocolate bar.

Mello.

I pick up the chocolate and read the name brand: Ghiradelli, Mello's version of an apology. I sigh, slouching and digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. I'd missed him. I shouldn't have slept, my body's needs and malnourishment be damned.

I felt like something was squeezing my heart slowly and torturously. That is what it is: torture. It's torture to be away from Mello. I always worry about him, because I know he might die at any second, and I don't want to be in a world without him. It would be nothing but a wasteland, as good as one of Near's board game boards.

It hurts to move, but I get up anyway, trudging to the kitchen to make some instant coffee.

Before I can put the water, I hear the door slowly open, and I whip my head around, bounding over to open it fully.

And it _is _Mello, it _is _him, steel blue eyes guarded and hesitant, and I throw my arms around him, not caring how clichèd it may sound. His arms came around me and held me tightly, and all the pain dissipated.

I detach myself just enough to kiss him, and the contact is soon deepened. Mello's pulling me urgently back onto the couch, and I let him. Because I need him, desperately, need all of him.

I've always needed Mello. He is more than air to me. I don't think he understands it, but I love him at least threefold how much he loves me.  
I don't know how to say it, so I do my best to communicate it with my body, kissing him deeply, tugging at his shirtfront.

Oh God, how I missed him.

"I'm sorry I can't leave you," he whispers, as he holds me in the darkness and we lie in each other's warmth.

"Please never leave again," I plead, and he silently runs his fingers into my hair, across my scalp. No promises.

I wake up cold the next morning.

He left.


	13. Thirteen Cuts

**Characters: BB and A**

**Genre: Horror/Tragedy. Not pleasant. You have been warned. I would individually rate it M, but my parents have said no M-rated fics, and I know they would find out somehow... So I'm not changing the entire story's rating. But I would rate this chapter M for disturbing-ness. I have such a morbid mind...**

**A/N: This was going to be something else, but then I realized that it was the 13th chapter. :P And don't hate on the BBxA. I actually much prefer it to BBxL. Although BBxC is better than either. ;) (Dlvvanzor reference, don't mind me...)**

****I was the first to know about A's suicide. It wasn't because I found him first. It wasn't because I had some sort of eerie lover's premonition.

No.

It was because, by technical standards, A didn't commit suicide.

I murdered him.

"B," he said one night, "I want you to kill me."

I said nothing.

"You know I don't want to live anymore," he whispered in that matter-of-fact way of his. "And I think I would like that- to be killed by the person I love. Doesn't that sound romantic?"

I said nothing.

"And besides, we both know what you're going to do. I know you haven't killed a human before, so I can be your practice. We can help each other... see?"

I kissed his neck, bit down slightly. "Tonight?"

"Yes, if you would be so kind."

"We need to make it look like a suicide. Let's go back to your room."

"Okay... Thank you, B. I knew you would understand."

He let himself become my experiment; I let myself become his relief. When there was no pulse left to speak of, and all my fingerprints had been wiped away, I returned to my room. It had been an interesting night.

The next morning, everyone was clustered around his body. I stood at the fringes, saying nothing, just staring at his body that looked so small, the dried blood that coated the floor.

No one else seemed to notice that there were exactly thirteen cuts on each wrist.


	14. Misinterpretation

**Characters: Matt, Mello, Near**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: I love fics like this. Don't judge. XD Above and Myth are my Wammy's OC's. I'll write a fic about them some day.**

****Near was floating down the halls of Wammy's House, twirling his hair and thinking about smart things, when he spied Myth and Above with their ears pressed avidly against Matt and Mello's door. Myth was desperately trying to hold back evil cackles, and Above was smiling knowingly.

"What are you ladies up to?" Near asked inquisitively.

Myth detached one hand from her mouth to beckon him over. "Come listen to this," she whispered, and Above nodded enthusiastically.

Near curiously came over to eavesdrop with the girls.

"Matt, just shove it in, it's not that big-"

Matt, whose voice sounded quite muffled, protested, "Yesh ih izs!"

"Just shut up and put it in your mouth!"

"Ih wont fiht-"

"Yes it will, just-"

"Fihne..."

There were several choking sounds, and Myth once more had to stifle her laughter with the added hilarity of Near's facial expression.

Above started to scribble in her notebook, and showed her words to the other two. It read,

_Cat_

_Checker_

_Spikes_

_Doe_

"What is she saying?" Near whispered.

"Above says, 'All our dreams have come true! We need to tell the other girls!'"

"How did you get from there to... never mind. Do you think we should tell them?"

Above wrote, _Nose Scarf Locket Ghiradelli Birthday,_ and Myth translated, "Above wants to wait until Mello has his orgasm, because the porn is better that way." Above nodded even more enthusiastically.

Near stared at the two for a minute, not sure whether to be more disturbed by what was happening behind the door or the other orphans next to him. He decided that they were both disturbing in their own special way.

He braced himself and opened the door. He found Matt and Mello both sitting on the floor, the latter holding a bag of marshmallows (how quaint), the former with one halfway to his mouth.

Myth let herself laugh (which was truly a frightening sound), and Near stood dumbfounded in the doorway. "Wh-what are you doing?" he finally managed to sputter.

"We're playing Chubby Bunny," Mello snapped. "What did you _think_ we were doing?"

Near slowly closed the door and retreated to his half-finished domino tower, deciding to purposefully erase all memory of this incident from his almost photographic brain.


	15. Cheap Thrills

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Humor/L-style Romance**

**A/N: I think that L calls Light "Light-kun" out loud, and "Light" in his head, because not only is he a liar, he was also brought up in England, where they don't use such honorifics. Headcanon has now been spat.**

L had long ago decided that one of the many facets of Light Yagami that made him so very interesting was his facial expressions. The boy was certainly adept at lying, and it was fun, exciting even, to watch him lie to everyone around him and observe the many layers of masks that he knew only he could see.

In fact, a big part of why he enjoyed intercourse with Light so much was to look at his ace as he removed every mask Light had ever put on, revealing the human behind them. He was fascinating.

But the most amusing side to this particular fact was watching Light when he was annoyed.

It was very easy to annoy him, seeing as the boy was, to put it simply, a neat-freak. When Light wasn't looking, L liked to move everything on his fraction of the desk precisely 1.7 inches to the left and let Light anxiously attempt to unscramble what had happened to his precious, color-coordinated pens. L had also hacked into his laptop and replaced all of Light's Yotsuba documents with text-speak. The next day, after Light had fixed it all, he replaced his notes with a hardcore yaoi lemon Mello had emailed to him a while ago. It was especially fun to wiggle his toes as he watched Light's usually impeccable face contort and flash though all the colors of the rainbow as he read that one.

So, when L was bored, he would just reach over to Light with his handcuffed hand and appear as if he was caressing the boy's hair, deliberately mussing it up, and see him blush before realizing the damage done and run to the bathroom to gel it back in place.

But, of course, all his cosmetic products had been tinted with imperceptable- or at least at first- pink dye.

L did get easily bored, after all.


	16. Candy Fetish

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Romance**

****L had been carefully monitoring himself for a while, knowing it to be entirely possible to fall for an extremely brilliant and attractive younger male he had handcuffed to his person. He wasn't stupid, after all-socially stunted, maybe, but not stupid. He was painfully aware of the homoerotic connotations of his surveillance methods from the start.

So when he suddenly found himself giving up his virginity to this boy, he certainly didn't blame himself. No, this was certainly not love. Yes, this was certainly attraction. No, this absolutely WOULD NOT affect the Kira investigation, plainly because L would not allow it to.

No; L blamed this attraction on the fact that Light Yagami looked like he was made of sweets.

Not that L found candy sexually arousing. It was just that when he met a person who had hair like spun threads of caramel and milk chocolate, skin like peach ice cream with a dusting of strawberry sprinkles when they were alone, and eyes like an impeccable German chocolate cake, how was he supposed to NOT fall in l... be attracted to... this particularly delicious specimen of a human being? He was sure that if Light didn't look like a piece of damn edible _candy_ all the time, he wouldn't be having this problem.

_No,_ he confirmed to himself as he stroked Light's hair through the blackness,_ definitely not love._


	17. Gag Reflex

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Humor/Innuendo**

****L turned suddenly to Light and stared at him with his big, black, creepy-ass eyes. "Light-kun."

"Yes, Ryuzaki?" Light asked, taking a sip of coffee mainly to hide his irritated expression.

"Did you no that I have absolutely no gag reflex?"

Light spurted hot coffee everywhere, and L resumed typing, selecting an especially large lollipop to devour.

**A/N: mellosgoggledgamer's stuff id finally up and published! :D Please go read it. She currently has written four fics, all Matt/Mello, three fluffy, one absolutely hilarious, and all of them wonderful. Scamper along! Run, fangirls, run, to the treasure trove of yaoi! **

**BTW... I now have a Gravitation shirt. Yuki and Shuichi are just chilling there looking sexy on my boobs. It's pretty friggin' awesome. XD**


	18. Pocky Games

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pocky...**

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Humor/KindaSortaRomance**

**A/N: I was so disappointed when L never had a Pocky scene. Seriously, we all assume, but there is never actually a scene in which l eats Pocky. As an L fangirl, I found this quite saddening.**

****L reached into the nearly empty box to extract yet another stick of chocolate Pocky. Seeming to find something interesting on his computer screen, he began to type slightly more quickly than usual, appearing to forget about the candy in his mouth, which now stuck out like the unusually long stick of a lollipop.

But Light knew that L never forgot about candy. He had other motives.

So he asked, "Ryuzaki?"

L looked up, still not doing anything about the candy. He made his "innocent and sweet" expression that usually made everyone in the vicinity go 'Awwwww!'

Yes, there was definitely something going on.

And because Light was a genius and knew L better than he probably knew himself, he sighed and said, "Ryuzaki. I'm not going to play the Pocky game with you."

L glared and snapped away at his Pocky, whirling back to his laptop and typing even more quickly than he had been.


	19. Cake Objections

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Humor/"Romance"/Dialogue**

**A/N: Wow, 20 chapters already. O.O Because I have a life. 8D**

****"L, we are at a _restaurant! _Are you seriousy going to only eat cake _again?_"

"Light-kun, if I do not have my cake, I will crash. And I will burn."

"No. I don't give a damn about your freaky eating habits. You are going to eat a healthy meal!"

"Without my cake, I will fall asleep."

"Yes, like a _human._"

"But, Light-kun, why should I be sleeping when I- or should I say _we_- could be occupied with other various nighttime activities that are a good deal more entertaining than sleep?"

"Ah..."

"Now do you object to my cake?"

"... No."


	20. Revelations

**Characters: Mello and Matt**

**Genre: Friendship/Not-Really-Humor**

**A/N: This one is random... I don't own Myst. If you've never played it, just know that it is REALLY, REALLY hard and actually quite intellectually demanding. (Fucking elevator...) And I posted that AU, parents be damned. I'll be taking down "Friends" when it comes to that chapter.**

****Mello didn't really take much notice of his new roommate, Matt, before that day. He considered Matt no more intelligent than himself, therefor not a threat, and therefor completely ignorable. It was only about two weeks in, the night before a test, when Matt's existence really dawned on him.

Mello, of course, was studying extra hard, so engrossed in his textbook that he barely remembered to eat his chocolate. He had been doing this for about 2 hours before he even realized that Matt wasn't studying at all, just playing some game on his computer (as he seemed to be doing perpetually).

Mello prickled. How dare someone not take these tests seriously? Grades were _life_ at Wammy's.

"Are you gooing to study at _all, _or just sit there on your lazy ass?" Mello barked.

Matt didn't even flinch, just shrugged nonchalantly as e clicked here and there.

"What could possibly be more important than this?" Mello asked incredulously.

Matt just shrugged again.

Mello, outraged, now actually put his book down and leaned way too far into Matt's personal space to watch the screen. (He noticed Matt tense, but didn't give a damn.) To his surprise, he actually recognized the visual on the screen.

"Is... is that _Myst?!" _Mello inquired.

"M-hm," Matt answered as he ducked into a fake fireplace and let the door clang shut.

Mello just stared at the screen.

"Ooh! The necklace is glowing!" the gamer remarked, clicking on said item. After he watched the clip shown, he stretched back and cracked his glove-covered knuckles, breathing, "All right, then."

With deliberation, the boy began to click on the panels of the fireplace door.. He managed to solve the complicated puzzle in a manner of minutes as Mello stared in shock.

When the blond had tried to play this game, he'd given up after about an _hour _of trying to solve that puzzle. Who the hell was this guy...?

Mello backed away slowly, staring in horror at the other boy who was now casually waiting for the elevator to activate. This guy was smart. Way smarter than Mello, and he suddenly found himself with a sinking, downing, sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Matt turned to him. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no," Mello stammered. "Just..."

Matt wasn't a threat. He was smarter, but he wasn't a threat. Because he didn't... he hadn't beaten Mello, not in the way that Wammy's House considered "beaten." HE was just... sitting there in his goggles and gloves and mop of cinnamon hair, and Mello... Mello _saw, _saw just a hint of the boy's immeasurable, diamond-hard brilliance before it was quickly gaurded away in his eyes.

He was going to be sick.

But he hung his head, not wanting to see his face, and put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "You know... you're all right," he admitted.

Matt paused. "You too."

"I'll... go back to studying now," Mello mumbled.

"Yeah, you do that."

And the next day, Mello watched as Matt's pencil hovered over what they both knew to be the right answer, then circle the wrong one. On purpose.

And in his heart, Mello was grateful.


	21. Bitter Sweetness

**Characters: L and Light, background MxM**

**Genre: Romance/Angst**

**A/N: I'm big on the LxL fluff, but I also believe that they have a very twisted, demented, violent, abusive, codependent and dysfunctional relationship. And I LOVE IT.**

****Sweetness; gentleness; care. I sometimes wonder what these things are like in an intimate relationship.

I've seen these things in Mello and Matt. The times I've seen the boys hold hands, for instance, their eyes have filled with such a deep, deep _love,_ so boundless and true that others would be shocked to see in children of but fourteen. Even when they quarrel, I have never seen Mello lay a hand on his calmer counterpart.

I am not so fortunate.

Though, when I try to imagine such things between Light and I, I can't.

We've always been meant to be like this: biting, scratching, competing to see which one can make the the other bleed more, who can lie more precisely. We cut each other with our eyes, and hit violently. We climb over each other with scrabbling, blood-soaked feet and eyes filled with battle-lust. We've occasionally faked it, but neither of us ever _wanted_ to be gentle.

I suddenly understand what it feels like to want to maim something you find beautiful. I want to mark him mine, force him to submit to me. But at once, I know I could never live again if I had to give up this fight, this fire, this pain.

It's how I let him know when I need to tell him that I will let him kill me: with sweetness, gentleness, care. I let myself go, to, if only for one instance, devote myself to him. Worship him with my hands. That night, I allow him to completely dominate me, body and soul, for the first time. We knew for a long time that this was how it would end, and still,_ still, _his sweat and my tears taste sweet.

I never knew that sweetness could have such a bitter taste.


	22. Cuttlefish Fangirl

**Characters: Mello and Matt**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: I've become randomly obsessed with cuttlefish. This is my vent. ...Don't judge me. XD**

****Matt squealed like the fangirl he is.

"Matt, are you watching yaoi _again_?" Mello asked incredulously.

"No, Mells- look at _this_!"

Mello leaned over his boyfreind's shoulder to see the computer screen and nearly choked on his chocolate. "Wh... what is _that?!"_

"That's a cuttlefish," Matt gleefully informed him.

"It looks like a squid had a lovechild with an elephant," Mello said mildly.

"It looks like that thing from _Doctor Who!_" Matt exclaimed. "And this..." He pulled up another picture, "... is how they mate!"

Mello's eyes widened. "Oh GOD."

"I know, right?"

"Matt, that was SO not something I wanted to see."

"The male has a special arm just for sperm," Matt said as he nodded sagely.

"Matty... how on Earth did you find this?"

The redhead shrugged. "I was bored."

Mello backed away slowly.


	23. The Counseling of Mail Jeevas

**Characters: Matt and OC counselour**

**Genre: Humor/Shit**

**A/N: Bad. So bad. XD I also set this before Matt came to Wammy's, at an unknown age.**

****"Mail... you just need to trust me. I'm not going to hurt you with what you tell me."

The redhead shrugged, pressing a few more buttons on his handheld game in his sloppy slouch. "There's not much to tell."

"Are you sure about that?"

He shrugged again. "It's not a matter of trust. My parents died. I'm bored. What you want me to have some dark past? Something like that would be interesting, right? The death of my parents haunts me everywhere I go?" He laughed a bit. "To be honest, it's really not that big of a deal. I'm not all that special."

The woman just sighed and put down her clipboard. "Well, that's all w have time for today. You're free to go, Mail. I'll see you next Tuesday."

Suddenly, Mail burst into hysterical laughter behind his goggles. The counselour stared in fright. "Yeah, I'll.. C U... next Tuesday, too!" he gasped as he collapsed onto the floor, holding his stomach.

The therapist slowly backed away, and never saw Mail again.


	24. Matt the Hetalian

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Hetalia.  
**

**Characters: M&M  
**

**Genre: Humor  
**

**A/N: Happy birthday, Matt! And sorry about the slow update. I'm working pretty extensively on that AU.**

It had started slowly. Like, you know how the storms that start the slowest always last the longest? Yeah. Mello didn't see it coming when it started.

He began to suspect something when Matt was parading around the house, singing Japanese. And then when he started using those strange words, such as "Jereeta," "Spumanoh," and "Proo-Oz." Mello just brushed these things off most of the time.

When he really got curious, though, was when Matt used the term, "Sweden Finland."

"Matt..." he said hesitantly, looking up from his laptop, "you know that Sweden and Finland are two separate countries, right?"

Matt blinked. "Well, yeah. I can't really ship it if they were just one person."

"... What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hetalia, of course," Matt articulated. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said all month? Haven't you seen my Italy mug? Haven't you noticed me using your high-heeled boot as a beer mug?"

"... No...?"

Matt sighed. "Figures."

**As in GerIta, Spomano, PruAus (which I don't ship, but my girlfriend does, so it gets honorable mention), and Sweden/Finland. Get with it, people.  
**

**... Boku Latvia. XD  
**


	25. Perfect

**Characters: Misa, (Light, L)**

**Genre: Angst... again. XD The next is humor, I promise.**

****She washed her face, her hair, her body with the most expensive and best-smelling mixtues.

_Perfect_, she whispered. _Make me perfect._

She spent hours honing her features to their cutest, her nails the glossiest, her outfits the sexiest.

_Please make me perfect._

She ate even less. Sometimes, not at all. When she did, she shoved laxatives down her throat and swallowed, hard, to stop the tears, because water would smudge her make-up.

_Let me be perfect for him._

And she _tried_, how she _tried_, to make him see her, even for an instance, and the les he saw, the harder she tried.

_Let me be worthy to worship my god._

But he never _did_ see her, not really, and his eyes would flicker over to the dark, hunched, disheveled man beside him, and _there _was the passion she longed for so dearly. _There._

The more perfect she tried to be, the more perfect _he_ would seem.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe for the longest time, so she blamed it on the spiderthreads of her corset.

And even when he threw her to the ground and they joined in body, there was no joining of the soul. Because she could tell... the name on Light's lips was "Ryuzaki," not "Misa."


	26. Switcheroo

**Characters: MMN**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: Obata-san and Ohba-san said that Near and Mello were originally meant to have each other's appearances and names. I was wondering how that would turn out, when one day...**

****"We'll kidnap Soichiro Yagami's daughter, Sayu, next!" Near proclaimed vehemently as he snapped off yet another hunk of chocolate.

"Uh... boss?"

"What _is_ it?!" Near demanded.

"I'm sorry, but... I just can't take you seriously in pajamas."

"Shit," Near swore under his breath. Then shot a few people for good measure.

Meanwhile, the entire SPK was completely and blatantly envious of the toys that their commander- "M," as he liked to call himself- was playing with.

Matt was just confused.


	27. Mello's Thoughts

**Characters: Mello, Matt**

**Genre: Parody/"Romance"**

**A/N: In chapter 6 of "Into the Dark" (which I will post soon), Mello has the thought that Matt acts like a housewife. This is the train of thought his mind originally took. XD I had to force myself to take it out and change it, since it wasn't supposed to be a necessarily funny scene, but I really wanted to put it here. :D**

I shoved that guilt-inducing thought down with a few choice swears and shoved myself over to the bathroom.

When I came out, in different leather but still towel-drying my hair, Matt had already made coffee.

Again... what is with this guy? He's like a damn housewife.

NO. The image of Matt in nothing but an apron was SO not something I needed at this time of the morning.

(Actually, that was kind of...)

NO.


	28. Flavored Water

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: Again, thanks to mellosgoggledgamer for the idea. XD Those things really do taste awful.**

L unscrewed the bottle of water and put it to his lips.

Light suddenly grabbed his arm in shock before the man could take a sip. "Light-kun?"

"You're actually drinking _water_?!" Light asked incredulously.

"It is strawberry-flavored."

Sadly, that explained it.

"Ryuzaki... you know that those things don't _actually_ taste like strawberry, right?"

L frowned. "But it says so on the label."

Light sighed and sat back in his chair. "Whatever."

L finally got his mouthful of the beverage. He seemed to roll it around in his mouth for a moment, then swallow hesitantly. His face contorted and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he set the bottle far, _far _away from his computer. "That," he proclaimed, "was NOT strawberry."


	29. Secret Valentine's Messages

**Characters: Light, Misa, L**

**Genre: Humor/Hinted LxL/Intense bashing**

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! :D Misa has now been dead for two years.**

"What are you writing, Light?" Misa cooed as she wrapped her arms around him. L twiddles his toes as he watched them in equal parts amusement and suppressed jealousy.

Light quickly his the paper away. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just something for tomorrow." Valentine's Day.

Misa giggled and kissed her boyfriend.

That night, L retrieved the paper as Light was sleeping. His eyes widened (even further) as he read what was written:

_Dear Misa,_

_I hate you. I think you're crazy. I don't know where you came from or why you're here, but please kindly GO AWAY. LEAVE ME ALONE. I've never loved you and I never will, so fuck off! I can't even hear myself think with you there yammering your boobs off! If you ever thought (a rare thing) that I could ever fall for a stupid, annoying, clingy, material, idiotic GIRL like you, think again!_

_I never want to have you in my sight gain. Get out of my life and find someone as equally slutty as yourself, because you're not getting any from me!_

_Happy Valentine's Day! :) xoxo_

_~ Light- KUN_

L smiled quietly to himself and returned the paper to its original spot.


	30. Secret Valentine's Messages 2

**Characters: Misa, Light, L**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: Sequel to the previous chapter. "Inner Light" is my reference to "Inner Sakura." XD**

The day after Light placed his message on Misa's bureau- the day itself- he felt delightfully refreshed and fully calm. He even ate some of the word hearts that L offered to him, because he was just a nice guy like that.

Finally, Misa ran at break-neck speed into the room.

_Bring it on, bitch_, Inner Light willed.

Misa threw herself onto her ove and planted messy kisses all over his face. Inner Light's thoughts were now along the lines of, _Pretend it's Ryuzaki, just pretend it's Ryuzaki..._

"Misa, why are you kissing me?" Light asked confusedly.

She broke away to giggle girlishly at the boy and straddle him more efficiently. "Because you're my boyfriend, silly! And because you love Misa, too!"

"Wait... what?"

"Light-Light wrote x's and o's all over Misa's love letter, so he must want to be kissed!~"

Light's eyes widened in horror. _Oh Kira, strike me dead..._

He was soon subjected to Misa-induced torture for what seemed to him to be several hours.

Not even Kira could save him now.


	31. Commoners' Coffee

**Characters: L, Light, (Task Force)**

**Genre: Humor/Parody**

**A/N: If you haven't seen Ouran High School Host Club, you will not really understand this. I just really wanted to write it. XD**

Light was typing exhaustedly away, searching yet again for some online evidence to catch Kira. He rubbed his eyes; he hadn't gotten much sleep (no thanks to a certain detective), and Ryuzaki had drank all the coffee.

"Light-kun," said freak of nature murmured, "might you fetch us all some coffee? We seem to be out."

Light practically leaped at the opportunity to get out of the stuffy building, and promptly ran off to get some of the caffeinated beverage which they all so desired.

When he got back, he walked over to the detective's chair and set his prize down. "Here's your coffee," he said.

L stared at the object, tentatively picking it up in his two-fingered grip. "Light-kun... what is this?" he mused, observing the tin with some perplexity.

"It's instant coffee," Light informed him. "Haven't you seen it before?"

A dawned-upon expression seemed to light L's features. "Oh! Isn't that when it's already ground? I expect common people don't even have time to ground their own coffee beans."

_'Common people?_'Light thought. "You actually just pour hot water over it," he said.

L almost gasped. "I have heard of this before, this... this _Commoners' Coffee_!"

_Ryuzaki said he was raised in England... Maybe that has something to do with it? _"Never mind," Light grumbled. "I'll go get you some fancier coffee."

"No," L said with determination. "I will try this Commoners' Coffee! Watari! Boil me some water!"

Within minutes, the coffee was ready to be drunk. the detective slowly took a sip. He swallowed, then a great expression of awe struck his face, his ever-dark eyes growing even wider. "It's surprisingly flavorless, but leaves a shocking afterburn!" he whispered. "This Commoners' Coffee is amazing!"

Light facepalmed. _Stupid gourmet rich kids._


	32. Wigs

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Humor/Romance/Stupid**

**A/N: Hi. :3 I recently got my Hatsune Miku wig. It's awesome, but it's also a bitch. Kinda like Miku herself...**

Matt was dancing with his headphones on full-blast, wearing nothing but a striped wifebeater and his boxers from the night before. Mello sat on the couch, watching approvingly while he pretended to read.

"BIG, BLACK BOOTS!" the readhead belted. "LONG, BROWN HAIR! SHE'S SO SWEET WITH HER- JET-BLACK STARE!"

Mello froze, contemplating. Matt continued to sing, unaware. He was already to the chorus, but unbeknown to him, his boyfriend was already pondering: _Hmm... a brown wig... would eBay be all right, or would the delivery be too slow...?_


	33. Matt's God

**Characters: Matt, (Mello)**

**Genre: Angst/Romance/Spiritual(?)**

**A/N: I HAD TOO. Please note that I am NOT Catholic. This is Matt being Matt and Mello being Mello. Inspiration struck me, and I couldn't resist writing this. I got the prayers from a website, and altered them to fit.  
**

* * *

As he had every night, without fail, without doubt, the gangly, redheaded boy knealt, clasping his gloved hands and squeezing his eyes shut tightly, preparing to worship his god. He took a deep breath and began, only reciting internally, not daring to speak his prayers aloud for fear of weeping:

_My Mello, Who is far from home,_

_Holy is Your Name;_

_Your victory come,_

_You will be done,_

_on earth as it is in Your fantasies._

_Give me this day my daily loneliness,_

_and forgive me for my weakness,_

_as you don't forgive those who win against You;_

_and lead me not into abandonment,_

_but deliver me from disloyalty. Amen._

The boy took another breath, shuddering and wincing behind his goggles. It had been years, but still, he was still doing this, for someone who had surely forgotten him...

_Hail Mello, full of fire._

_My love be with you._

_Beautiful are you among filth,_

_and cursed is the fruit of your mind,_

_Jealousy._

_Holy Mello, Lover of mine,_

_pray for us dogs,_

_now at the hour of my death. Amen._

_Eternal Father,_

_I offer you my Body and Blood,_

_Soul and Impurity,_

_of Your barely beloved toy,_

_Your Lover Mail Jeevas,_

_in atonement of my sins,_

_and those of the whole world._

_For the sake of my sorrowful Passion_

_have mercy on Yourself_

_and on the whole world._


	34. Snow Day

**Characters: Various**

**Genre: Uhhh...**

**A/N: Erm... hi? I was just thinking about what the characters would do in the snow... I guess...**

When it snowed so thickly one year that the task force had to take the day off, Misa was the first outside, running in her brand new coat, dragging Light behind her. "Come on!" she laughed, dragging the boy (and, by default, L) down the stairs as he hurriedly tugged on his coat.

As soon as she got outside, she ran right into the thick, white mess and twirled and twirled like a mechanical ballerina doll.

"Come on, Light!" she called, and he grudgingly plodded in after her.

It was L who threw the first snowball, despite his bare and quickly bluing hands, a small, mischievous smile alighted on thin lips.

Light laughed and they soon obliged, but after Misa had complained that her new clothes were ruined and they headed back inside, he slipped out again, detective in tow, with a shovel and obsessive determination, to smooth out the ground again.

L watched him finish in silence, and after an hour, a panting but satisfied Light-kun stood to the side, surveying his work like a proud father.

L deliberately walked across it, once.

Miles away, an adolescent Mello ran outside and kicked a glob of the stuff in Matt's face. The whirlwind of blond and black flopped down in the snow and spread his arms and legs, shouting, "Look at me, I'm an angel!" while Matt blew his fingers in silence, longing for his DS back inside.

Mello stomped on and spat on and hurtled through the snow, defiling it and marking it his, so that none of the other kids could have it.

And finally, when he glomped it all into one dirty mound, he climbed to the top and looked over his domain, shouting, "I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!"

Near watched with his fingers pressed to the glass, his tiny, warm breaths fogging his ice-cold windowpane as Mello destroyed, and destroyed, and destroyed. He lifted up his favorite robot and whispered, "Look, Z. That's Mello- isn't it pretty?- That's Matt."

Z nodded. Near turned away.

**So... yeah. That was what I would call "?"**


	35. Matt is a Puppy

**Characters: Matt, Mello**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: This was literally a conversation that mellosgoggledgamer and I had. She though I should make it SSM. XD**

"Can I please have a bite of your chocolate?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, please?"

"I said NO, bitch."

"... Please?"

"Hell no, fucker."

"But why not, Mells?"

"Because, Matty, you are a puppy, and puppies are allergic to chocolate."


	36. Beyond, STOP IT

**Characters: B, Mello**

**Genre: Humor What?**

**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, you guys! I finished the AU I was working on... so now, of course, I will start two more! Mwahahahaha! :]**

**But first, something random. I... have no idea. Just... no idea.**

* * *

B stood at the podium and called everyone in the dining hall to be quiet by smiling creepily at them. Needless to say, they shut right up.

"I would like to make-" he began.

C cat-called. B glared at C. C stopped.

"I would like to make an announcement," he continued, fiddling with his shirt, "to you all."

Everyone remained silent.

B solemnly stared at the mic with his eyes crossed. "If a quiz is quizzical..." he murmured, "what is a test?"

Everyone remained silent as he gazed out at them.

"Oh my God!" Mello finally spoke up. "Stop. Just... stop."

"You're telling me to stop?" B asked with his eyes narrowed.

"And to shut the fuck up, yeah, that's the general idea."

B got off the stage. Oh, they would see how far he could take his puns. They would burrrrrn.

Beyond Birthday never submitted to anything, after all.


	37. Marked

**Genre: Angst/Romance**

**Characters: L and Light**

**A/N: I've been in a bit of a writing lag lately, which you can see in my lack of updates. This and some following chapters are attempts at getting back in the spirit of things, because I have plots to write, slash to toss, and characters to kill off! I need to get my ass on the road, here! So forgive me if I'm not at my best. :(  
**

* * *

The cuff fell to the ground with an unceremonious _thunk_ as L detached it from Light's wrist. The younger boy rubbed at the the chaffed skin left behind, staring at it instead of L. The detective removed the other cuff from his own wrist and set the chain aside. That blasted chain, loathed and coveted, guilty of rust and fights and fate.

Light slowly inched away, his stomach plummeting and his memories swelling, until he hit the opposite wall from where L was. Only then did he look up, still holding his wrist like it was a small animal that needed to be protected. The way that he used to hold L's fingers: tenderly, cautiously, possessively. They hadn't been this far away from each other in months.

Well, it was going to be easier to kill him this way. It was a good thing, in the end, for the bettering of Kira's world.

Light met L's charcoal-black eyes, and for once, they were completely unreadable. Unreachable.

That had used to be one of the things that drew Light to him so; that while everyone else never or rarely seemed to notice L's emotion, Light could see through everything, notice every facial tic and minor change in expression, and read L like a book. A mystery novel, surely, full of twist endings and thrilling surprises, the kind of book that left you heady and starving, thirsting for more.

Now, he could see nothing.

Someone had just scooped out his heart with a cold metal spoon, and now his nerves were frayed and cold.

"That's it, then," L finally broke the silence in a perfect monotone.

Light was never good at hiding feeling completely, but he could always cover up the little he had with the ones that were appropriate. He knew that he and L masked themselves in different ways, L because he never knew how to react, and so kept himself inside, and Light because he had such high social skills that he knew the perfect way to fool anyone.

Except for L. Of course. It was always L.

"Yeah," Light said. "I'm kind of relieved, to be honest, since your suspicion has gone down. I'll see you around."

L just continued to stare at him, breaking him, burning straight through Light's heart with his eyes. "Goodbye, Light-kun," he finally said.

And Light turned and walked away.

For the first time in forever-ago, he was truly alone. His footsteps were the only ones he heard when he walked down the halls- no padding, soft, bare feet beside him. If he squinted, his shadow almost looked like L... but he refused to imagine.

He reported to the room in the building that was now his. He sat silently on the bed. Though the sheets were clearly custom-made, the were cold beneath his fingertips. Too cold. Too neat. Too empty. Not covered in sweets, not gripped to the point of tearing by desperate nails, not muffling sighs and the clinks of the chain.

Light took his wrist again. _Marked_ was the word that came to his mind. _Marked forever._

That night, neither could sleep.


	38. Always

**Characters: Light, (L)**

**Genre: Angst, Strangely Philosophical?**

**A/N: This is my roundabout way of interpreting one aspect of L and Light's relationship. Do you remember the scene in... I think episode 27 or 26? when Light is in the bathroom, washing his face and staring in the mirror after Misa talked at him? Yay, interpretations!**

* * *

Cool water splashed Light's heated face, blessing his closed eyes with a fleeting peace. He sighed as he stared in the mirror. He wasn't scared anymore by seeing the hardness in his eyes, his own willingness to kill. His family was disposable. If L had been disposable, then certainly his blood relations were nothing to him.

_Nothing._

The word echoed through him, all around him. There was nothing left. Nothing to think or feel, motions left like the mechanics of a robot. Light survived, day after day; nothing more. _Nothing_ more.

He stared in the mirror, and L stared back.

Light refused to greet him, and L merely looked at him coldly. "Light," he addressed him simply. In the afterlife, there was no need for honorifics.

"Go away," Light told him.

"I can't," L replied simply.

"Light clutched his head. "Go away, go away, go away. You're dead. Ghosts don't talk. They aren't real. Now leave me alone."

"I'm dead?" L seemed to muse, his voice reverberating like an electric shock through Light's head. "But aren't we tied together? We're chained, you know. I can't leave."

"You took off that chain days ago." What Light doesn't say is _six days, eight hours, 23 minutes, and 44 seconds... 45... 46..._

"You really are a remarkable boy, Light," L continued in his perfect monotone. "Your resilience is outstanding."

"Shut up."

"I'm in your head, so technically, you control me."

"Then shut up."

"But you don't want me to. You miss me."

"You're lying."

"Then you are lying to yourself. For someone who lies equally as much as I do, and as with as much precision and dexterity, I can't say I'm surprised-"

Light's shoulders heaved with a dry, silent sob. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"We're the same person, you and I."

Light's head rose to stare into his eyes- L's eyes. "What?"

"Well, aren't we? We have the same soul. The same drive. The same motivation of purging ourselves of boredom, to find anything, anyone, remotely stimulating. Remotely challenging. It was our fate. We're exactly the same at the core."

Light shook his head. "But we're so different, we can't be the same. I'm a god, I'm perfect, and you're nothing but a freak. You lost, and I won."

L smiled slightly. "Light, life is such a fleeting thing. I suppose that this is our only true difference: you chose to live without the one you love, the one who understands you, offers any interest in your mundane life. I made the choice to die."

"You didn't choose," Light- or was it L?- spat back. "I killed you, and there was nothing you could do about it."

L sighed. "You're still so arrogant. I could have kept you with me, clung to you; I could have chosen not to answer my phone that day. I could have chosen to play dumb, and pretend that I didn't know that the 13-day rule was fake. You were brilliant, but there were many loopholes in your plans. We could have kept fighting without me dying. I could have won."

"I wanted to keep fighting."

"I know."

"I'm not sorry."

A bitter chuckle. "You never are."

"You'll stay?"

L faded, washed down the drain, slipping through Light's fingers... "Always."


	39. Ultimate Kismesis

**Characters: Soichiro and Matsuda**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HOMESTUCK! XD**

* * *

Chief Soichiro Yagami sighed and put his head in his hands. "Matsuda, I can't believe I'm talking to you, but... I have no idea what to do. Light just told me that he's homosexual, and though I'll always support him, being in a relationship with _L_ is just..." He sighed again.

"But chief," Matsuda said seriously as he put his hand on his boss' shoulder. "L and Light have the ultimate kismesis."


	40. Sparklesparkle

**Character: Mello**

**Genre: Humor/Parody**

**A/N: I just got back form a CONVENTION, whoo whoo! I am still in my Mello cosplay. :3**

* * *

It had been days- literally, DAYS- since Mello had eaten a chocolate bar. And finally, that blessed moment had come, the time to bite into the finest delicacy that the world had to offer...

"Just watch me, Matt," Mello whispered as he unwrapped the bar. "I'll kill people with my right hand, and kill more people with my left. I'll take this chocolate bar... and EAT IT!"


	41. Mello is NOT Adorable

**Characters: Mello, Matt**

**Genre: Humor**

**A/N: Oh my Lawliet, inside joke. XD This is a particular inside joke that references one of my favorite lines in a roleplay between mellosgoggledgamer and myself.**

* * *

Matt stroked Mello's angel-oft hair idly as the other leaned against the redhead's chest.

"You're so adorable," Matt murmured admiringly.

Mello turned to face him. "No Matt." The blond stood up abruptly, leaving Matt's chest cold. "I am a sexy, sexy PANTHERBEAST."

And Mello flipped his hair and walked away.


	42. At First Sight

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Romance**

**A/N: I was in the mood for some slightly angsty fluff. Let's see how this goes~**

* * *

Matt had loved Mello since the day he'd met him.

It was a normal day; nothing to do but play his games. Though he was only eight years old, his fingers already moved with quick precision in the way that only a dedicated gamer can hope to achieve.

Suddenly, his door banged open, and Roger had shoved in this screaming, fighting, blond-and-black mess who still carried the detectable lilt of his German accent. "LET ME GO, LET ME GO!" the amazing creature had screamed loudly. The door did nothing but close in his face. "I HATE YOU!" the blond shouted through it, his fists smashing against the frame.

Matt stared in awed silence. He forgot to pause his game. His character died.

The miniature explosion turned to face him, and Matt caught sight of eyes through the tousled gold hair. Hard eyes, expressive eyes, amazing, wonderful, and terrible eyes, filled with fire and ice, fear and hate, so many contradictions that Matt couldn't understand. For once, he didn't mind not understanding. For once, he almost understood the belief of God; how you will never be able to touch or fathom that kind of holy perfection. Only worship it, love it, and fear it, devote all of your heart and soul to an unreachable ideal...

Beautiful.

Yes, Matt had loved Mello since the day he'd met him. That was the very moment that Matt knew he would do anything for this person... and would, eventually, be willing to die for him.


	43. Testing B

**Character: BB**

**Genre: Horror**

**A/N (Please DO read): Expect some BB fics for a little bit. I really want to write him into my plots, but I feel like I can't fully enter him yet. I need to get to a higher, fuller, deeper understanding of his character before I can truly write him. I don't want him to just "seem like B," but for my version of his character and my writing of him to fully embody the soul that is Beyond Birthday. He's much harder to reach than any other character I've ever worked with before, and I think that's because I'm scared to write him... scared to find a part of Beyond within myself... **

**Wow, that was philosophical. So, if you could give me some legitimate feedback on my writing him, that would be awesome! Thanks. OuO**

* * *

You always did like blood.

It was a pretty color; the color of summer-ripe strawberries and big lollipops, a bright, deep red that woke up the eyes and brought the senses to life; candy-red tickled your eyelids when you tried not to close them at night, and it lulled you. The color quieted you better than any lullaby, wrapping you in your quilt of silence Your best friends were the monsters under your bed... inside your head... wrapping their scaly hands to cup your cheeks, their long, sharp nails close enough to draw more blood...

They lived inside of you, desperately trying to crawl their way out of your too-skinny frame, and you let them. You let them scratch at your skin and bite at your nails, tear off your eyelids with razor-sharp teeth as they begged to breathe, begged for the warmth of candy-red in your ghost-cold body. They wanted to see your bones, your flesh.

They never left you alone, never in complete silence. They were always there... whispering... circling... whispering... circling, whispering, circling, whispering/circling, whisperingcirclingwhisperingpossesspossessposess, and now run before they eatyoualive-

They spurred you on. Helped you. You were always destined for greater things than what your world could hold.

They were annoying at times, your helpers. Noisy. They wouldn't leave you alone, even when you very politely told them to shut up, and you grew louder and louder, screaming at them to stop, until they would overpower the noise your one, hoarse throat could make with their thousands and billions of little voices all screaming at incomprehensible decibels that near ruptured your ears.

How rude.

It was then that you sought out the screams of others.

You experimented on your family (dedicate the body to science), man, woman, baby sister. Their screams of fright and pain were beautiful, mingled and mutilated, so delightfully, wonderfully muffled under your hands and fabrics. "Beyond, stop"/Beyond, why"/"Beyond, Beyond, Beyond"/"why, why, why,"/SHUT UP! - Their sounds were disgusting. They were disgusting. Disgusting little maggots that didn't deserve to live.

And so, then there was peace.

(Almost.)

(Never quite...)

(You could never quite...)

(Shut up.)

The dissection of animals had been your vice at the orphanage you were trundled off to after that (you poor child), and for the many after, up to when you were finally delivered to Wammy's House. You liked to skin them alive, just to watch them wriggle and squirm- what queer little creatures, this was good for them, medicine, to be swallowed obediently with a gallon of sugar- to watch the flesh peel back from the bones, the skin bursting as your pocket knife (you always did like to use short tools for your crafts) slipped through. Cutting these things was gentle, kind; soft, slow, like petals falling from a flower. A rose, perhaps, the symbol of once-perfection, rotting on its sharp, pointy stem that drew only more and more blood...

Disgusting. You hated poetry, though you aced the class. That class where you first heard of L. "L never could quite grasp the heart of poetry." Oh, lament.

L.

L... what? Who was this person you were meant to look up to? Was it a man? Was it a woman? How old? How short? How fat? How pale?

Not that you cared. You cared about reaching him, conquering, claiming the unattainable as your own and mounting that head on your wall of trophies. The body you used was simply a host for your ambition and presence; merely another way to get closer.

L was the most beautiful, unreachable thing of all.

You wanted to see his scars and his cuts.

You wanted to see what exact shade the color was that oozed out, drip by sure, plodding little drip...

But no. L was the good guy in this fairytale. L was too good for that. He didn't want to see petty tricks; you'd put on a whole show.

And watch the marionette strings of the world unravel as you burned the glue that held them together.

* * *

**Wow, I got into that. That was fun! :D  
**


	44. The Insanely Creatively Titled Chapter

**Characters: BB and A**

**Genre: Headcanon Something**

**A/N: As mellosgoggledgamer knows, this used to be the intro for a BBxA headcanon fic. I figured out that what I really want to do with them is to scope out their personalities here, rather than write a whole story, I belive it will only be redundant and superfluous to my AU, which is what I'm trying to focus on right now. I liked this scene, though, so here it is.**

* * *

The boy stared in awe at the gigantic estate before him. It was truly a work of art, age and beauty seeming to emanate from its intricately carved, grey stone. It spoke of ancient England; of kings and nobles, battles and revelry. It was so big that the small child felt that he would be crushed under its overwhelming size.

Alain- but no, his name would be changed now, wouldn't it, another thing he'd lost?- fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. It had already been too much for the nine-year-old to take in, and he just wanted to sleep. Sleep for a very, very long time.

That's what his parents had told him, when they were still alive: that death meant being asleep, like floating on a cloud of dreams, a circle of peace that went forever and ever into the sunset. It had sounded nice to Alain, that endless bliss.

He'd had to figure out himself that death could hurt. Death could mean blood. Death could mean a shot and a rope and his parents limp on the floor, with no warning or sound but the sharp bang of the gun his father used.

If they'd wanted to sleep so badly, Alain thought, they could have just had a glass of warm milk and a melatonin. He used to do that all the time when he couldn't go to sleep. And then his mommy would tuck him in and double-check that there weren't any monsters under his bed and that she loved him, flick on the night light at his wall and tuck him in...

He swallowed. He didn't want to start crying again, especially in front of this old man. He seemed like a nice person, and he'd already done too much to help the boy. Alain knew that he should have gone with his parents. He could feel their ghosts lingering, missing him, calling him home. But he had been taken away, and now, he was here, at this place he'd never seen the likes of before.

"A," the old man said gently.

Alain started. "Y-yes, Mr. Wammy?"

"I'll lead you in to your room. You will have one roommate. After you meet him, you can get some rest. All right?"

How was he supposed to rest if he wasn't tucked in? He only nodded, staring at his sneakers and wishing that he could sleep alone. What if he started crying again? What if the other kid made fun of him? What if-?

He shuffled along obediently, still anxious, especially when faced with the huge oak door of Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children. The door was opened for him by his new caretaker, however, and A managed to look up in order to stare in awe at the insides of the building.

The ceiling was so high that it reminded him of skyscrapers back home. Tall windows lining the walls allowed buttery light to shine into the entrance hall. The ceiling itself was a large glass dome, drenching the room in golden warmth. The boy couldn't believe that a room like this was only one level. A closed his eyes and basked in the yellow behind his lids for a moment, his shoulders tight and his hands still, not fidgeting for once, merely holding his there. A swayed dizzily, remembering the same light streaming through the windows of the church he used to attend.

He hugged his shoulders and grudgingly opened his eyes, hurrying along behind Mr. Wammy. The man hadn't seemed to mind, but A didn't want to hinder him even more than he already had.

He was led up spiral staircases and straight ones, through grand and narrow hallways, until the two of them reached the first door in a hallway of many, off to the side of the main building. The old man opened the door, and A was surprised to see quite a simple bedroom, no more than two beds, two desks, two bureaus, and a window. There was another door, which presumably led to a small bathroom. A took a comfort of sorts, seeing that there could be a room so simple after all this grandeur, beautiful though it was.

"B doesn't appear to be here right now," Mr. Wammy said. "Do you need anything else? Are you hungry? I know it's been a long day for you," he offered kindly.

"No thank you,"A whispered.

"I'll leave you alone, then," the man decided, closing the door quietly behind him as he went.

A sat down on one of the beds uncertainly. Despite the slight comfort he took from the room, he still felt as if he didn't belong. His legs felt stiff and awkward.

He hugged himself tighter to stop his own trembling, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, sniffing hard. He bit his tongue to hold back tears-

Something grabbed his leg.

A screamed at the sudden shock, jumping up only to fall down, narrowly missing hitting his face on the floor. The grip on his ankle didn't go away, and he kicked at it panickedly, thinking _momster, monster, this room is haunted!_ until the hand retreated.

A scrambled backwards, grabbing his leg where it still hurt.

Emerging from the bed was a body: long, pale fingers made way to a dusty, white sleeve, two arms pulling themselves out from underneath. A caught sight of two crimson eyes, and stopped in horror. It had to be a monster, it _had_ to be, there was just no way around it-

A head finally popped out. A was only slightly relieved to see that it had a human face, though deathly pale, with shocks of disorderly black hair sprouting from it, hanging over blood-red eyes rimmed in darkness, above a wide smile.

"Hello," the thing said politely.

A could only sputter.

The thing cocked its head. "What's the matter? Did I scare you?" It had a human voice, at least...

I scuttled completely out from under the bed, and A drew himself farther back, drawing his knees to his chest.

The thing stood up, and a discovered that it was, in fact, a human, with ripped jeans and horrible posture. And manners, apparently.

"W-Why would you d-do that?" A asked in a still-terrified whisper. "It was m-mean."

The other boy pondered this for a moment. "Maybe," was his verdict. "But it was fun."

A inched his way back to the bed he'd been sitting on, giving the other boy a very wide berth. Red eyes stayed trained on him the whole time, the thing-boy's neck twisting without moving the rest of his body. A finally hopped up onto the bed as if to claim it as his territory, wrapping himself into his jacket and staring back.

"I'm B," the other told him. "You must be A. My new room mate."

Fantastic. He was roomed with a crazy person.

B suddenly jumped onto the bed himself in a strange crouched position and lumbered over to A, who resigned to the fact that he was scared, tired, sad, and weirded-out, and there was nothing he could really do about any of it.

B inched closer until his crimson eyes were right in front of A's. "Alain," he whispered.

"W-What?" A stammered. "How did you-?"

"Your name," the freak-boy murmured with a note of triumph, "is Alain Lamperouge."

"..."

"You have pretty eyes."

"_What?_"

B smiled. "What color are they? Blue-green-grey-silver-gold-black-turquoise. They look like marbles."

"... marbles," A repeated.

"Yes, those glass things that you roll and go 'clink' when they hit each other. They're fun to play with, marbles. Fun to break, too."

B suddenly (as it appeared to be his nature) got up and retreated to the other bed, pulling a book from under his pillow and curling up to read it.

A sat frozen for a good moment, then burrowed under his covers that didn't smell like home, huddled in them up to his head o that his world was thrown into blissful, quiet darkness.

For a moment, A thought he was dead.


	45. Something to Control

**Character: BB**

**Genre: Musings**

**A/N: Oh my gosh, you guys... go read "Ctrl Z" by Mello's Favorite Reject. Now. She doesn't even know that I'm telling you this. It is amazing, definitely one of THE most amazing things I've ever read, oh my goodness, just... go. Her writing style is so unique and gorgeous, and- Okay, stopping now. But SERIOUSLY, GO. GO NOW.**

* * *

B could see peoples' life spans. He could see them, outlined in cherry red, hanging above their heads. He could see peoples' fates mapped out above them. He could see the cruelty of the world and how time marched on unrelentingly like the toll of funeral bells. Beyond Birthday saw the one thing that no human could control, and it reminded him only of how little control he had over L... himself... people.

... but he could control their life spans.

* * *

**GO.**


	46. What's in a Name?

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Angst/Romance**

**A/N: No. Seriously. Go read "Ctrl Z." Right now.**

* * *

Mail had always been alone.

When he was younger, he'd mainly taken care of himself, because his dad was always out drinking and his mom was always out working. He was making his own breakfast by the time he'd turned three (quite unceremoniously). If someone had asked him if he was lonely- if- he would have shrugged, shook his head like he was getting off a fly, and wait for your next question.

In short, Mail Jeevas became an adult in a child's body.

But then his parents had died in a fire that started on spilled vodka, and, after being tossed like a hacky-sack ball from orphanage to orphanage, landed at Wammy's House, and was turned into Matt.

He had no other name; no middle or last name, no nicknames, no initials... no existence. Just Matt.

Wammy's House held no friends for the little redhead, but no enemies either. Matt isolated himself from everyone there, drowning in games, simply because he didn't know _how _to hate. How to love.

Then, of course, Mello came, and _everything_ changed.

Matt found that he was no longer content with being alone, that if he was apart from the other boy, even for a ten consecutive minutes, he felt like a part of himself was floating around without him. Mail Jeevas, then Matt, became an abundance of new names- at first, derogatory things like "fucktard," "imbecile," and "asshole." Later, they became fonder, such as "you're not so bad, ginger"- and, much, much later: "Matty," "Matty-Matt," "Chocolate Chip." There were teasing names like "bitch-muffin," "kawai desu," "cinnamon toast," "Dearest Mattilda." These, Matt took in stride.

There were, of course, his favorite names, the ones that sent chills down Matt's spine when Mello would whisper them in the empty, dark space between morning and midnight. "Beautiful." "Precious." "Perfect." "Love." "Mine."

But there was only one name on the note Mello left behind:

_Matt._

There was nothing else written; no explanation, no "from, Mello." No "I'll be back soon." No "I love you." Mello didn't make empty promises.

All he'd left was that name.

Matt had to learn to be alone all over again. This time around, he did discover things. Things that Mail hadn't minded, Matt did... Things like being alone. Like silence. Like sunny days. Like having your heart and skull crushed and stamped into dirt and his bones turning into cold and brittle ice.

Matt did things that Mail would never do:

He threw things.

He punched things.

He cried.

He screamed.

He smoked.

He drank.

He cut.

He starved himself until he devoured food that he'd simply forgotten to eat.

He contemplated suicide, but was always wrenched away, forbidden to, by the phone lying on his dresser. Because maybe Mello would call tonight... in an hour... soon... one day...

Mail always hated the uncertainty of "one day." Matt clung to those two words like a lifeline.

_One day_, he'd think as he stared out at the streetlights the color of Mello's hair, at the night sky that was the color of his eyes. _One day, I won't be alone anymore._


	47. First, Five Syllables

**Characters: Randomness**

**Genre: Ditto**

**A/N: I decided to post something that isn't depressing! XD These are crap haiku that I wrote on a plane when I was bored. Some are Death Note, some are other fandoms, such as Hetalia, Kuroshitsuji, and Soul Eater. I don't own any of them.**

* * *

I am bored as heck  
I am on a stopping plane  
Awkwardness prevails

Germany is mad  
Italy is really dumb  
Japan's still silent

America's weird  
We forgot you, Canada  
Cuba's angry now

Ciel was too bored  
Sebastian's now serving him  
Kinky kinky stuff

The Allies' party  
France is intoxicated  
England is disturbed

L had many sweets  
Who will eat the extra cake  
Now that he is gone?

Misa wants Light bad  
The Great and Powerful L  
Got Raito first, bitch

Uke or seme?  
Oreos will decide your fate  
Matty wins! K.O. **(Sorts and Sweets reference XD)**

There were four Kiras  
Three of them, idiotic  
One was I'm-a-gay

Teru Mikami  
You crazed psychotic fuckhead  
Light was never GOD

Mello is pissed off  
The chocolate is demolished  
Matt fears for his mind

To let off some steam:  
Blowing up a Toys 'R' Us  
So that Near will cry

Maybe we shouldn't  
Dye Near's laundry pink  
Mells got robo-punched

Death the Kid has gunsAnd an impatient temper  
Asymmetry flees


	48. Kim

**Characters: Matt, Mello**

**Genre: Angst**

**A/N: I was reading ****_Kim_**** by Ruyard Kipling, and a certain line caught my eye. I wanted to see if I could do something with it. ^^ A different take on Matt and Mello's relationship than what I usually do, but that's fine, since Matt is a character that has many differing interpretations.**

* * *

_"'I had a fear that, perhaps, I came because I wished to see thee- misguided by the Red Mist of affection. It is not so.'"_

A knock came at his door, and the almost-man tried not to start in alarm or run to the entryway. Instead, he brought his legs slowly off the table and stepped softly, slowly- even his clunky, black boots made no sound on the mottled wooden floor. The swish of leather against leather was that of snowflakes falling on the blanketed Earth.

He gripped the handle tightly, so tightly, and opened slowly. And there he was: the boy- though he was a man, too, now, wasn't he?- that he'd been expecting for so long.

The blond's heart warmed at seeing the familiar locks of wine-colored hair cascading from the top of a fleece-covered vest, skinny arms encased by stripes and gamer's fingers covered by gloves, goggles guarding mysterious, green eyes... Matt.

The redhead looked up, and, before even coming into Mello's apartment, said: "You've changed."

Mello cringed as if the two words were a chastisement. His fists clenched even harder so that his knuckles turned to white, and he shook a curtain of dirty-blond hair in front of his face to hide the burn there. He knew he wasn't Wammy's-Mello anymore, but hearing it from Matt made the fact finally crystallize... made it finally stand out in harsh relief against the lost innocence of his soul.

"You haven't," the black-clothed one finally replied.

Matt breathed through his nose in what might have once been a bark of laughter muffled underwater. He pushed past the blond into the room, and asked casually, "There a damn plug in this place?"

The question, surely formed for need of a place to charge Matt's games, was so familiar to Mello that he knew Matt's tones of voice by heart. These were the tones he used when he didn't even care, and his game was already charged, but he didn't want silence. Mello knew, even, that Matt didn't want to talk to him then, from the way his shoulders were folded; the gamer was afraid of quiet.

Mello licked his lips. "Matty, I-"

The man in stripes flinched. "Don't call me that."

Mello swallowed and gripped his shoulders. "Right. Sorry."

"You don't have the right to call me that anymore," Matt continued, more quietly this time, calmer- still, the words cut Mello to the core.

"I said I was-"

Matt suddenly turned to face Mello and look him in the eyes. "No. No, for once, let me talk," he continued in the same casual manner. "You left me alone- no note, no sign- and I looked for you for years, _Mells_." The old pet name was spat with a contempt that the blond had never heard the likes of on the tongue of (his?) Matt. "I looked everywhere. And then you just call me up for no adequately explained reason, and I show up here, and you're burned, dressed to the nines like a fucking hooker, and probably doing something illegal that's going to get me killed."

Mello looked away in shame. He had no excuses. "... Why did you come back, then?" he finally asked.

"Not because of _you_," Matt said. "If you think that, then you're wrong. I just had nothing better to do. I hope you know that. I hope you're not the princess of the fucking world, Mello!" His voice was finally starting to rise, and Mello gave up. He let his shoulders slump and his burn show, because, really, there was nothing he could do. "I hope you fucking know that I cried every damn day for you! My phone kept running out of battery because I always had it on just to see if I had any messages from you! I ran away from Wammy's for a week before I decided I couldn't stay out- Hell, I _prayed_ for you, and you know I don't believe in any kind of God! I-"

"I'm sorry."

Matt stopped cold. "... What?"

"I said," Mello choked, staring at the floor, "'I'm sorry.'"

Neither said anything for a moment. Then the redhead snorted sarcastically. "Sure, Mello."

"No, really, I mean it," Mello half-laughed, half- cried. "I'm so sorry. Matt, I... I really do..."

"Don't say it."

"Matty, please...?" The blond looked up to see the redhead's shoulders gently shaking.

"Don't say it. You can't. Please," the other whispered.

"... Okay."

Matt shuffled his feet and slowly made his way over to the couch. He was soon sprawled bodily across it, pulling out an old, battered DS from his pocket and mashing the buttons furiously.

Mello stared after him before tearing his eyes away once more, his fists now loose at his sides, forcing his breath to be regular.

_Mail... I really do love you._

* * *

**That was depressing. :\ Sorry, guys.**


	49. Dancing

**Characters: Mello and Matt**

**Genre: Romance/Vignette/Fluff/Feels**

**A/N: I haven't updated in forever. I'm sorry. I've been extremely busy recently. I just transferred to a school where I have to actually do shit, because being intellectually gifted in a public school sucked big-time. (It's not a good sign when you start empathizing with why Light used the Death Note. Seriously.) But I was reading over my reviews, and I remembered: I love you guys. ;-; So I wrote something.**

* * *

When Mello and Matt were ten years old, they found a record in the House attic, and played it for fun on the old gramophone: a slow,sweet waltz that sputtered out as if it was being shouted from a walkie-talkie. They laughed, and then the blond stood up, offering his hand and bowing exaggeratedly. Matt cheekily grinned and gripped his best friend's palm, and they spun wildly around the room until they collapsed from giggles.

When Matt and Mello were thirteen years old, the summer moon streamed through their window, drenching the floor in light. It shone off their hair and sparkled in their eyes, and since neither wanted to sleep, Mello geld out his hand, and Matt took it. They smiled at each other and stumbled throughout the room, barefoot. They danced until they drew close enough to touch... and did.

When Mello was almost fifteen years old, it was pitch-black and storming outside, though neither bothered to turn on the light. He shook Matt out of sleep and grabbed hold of his hand, dragging him out of bed and onto the floor. They danced then in tiny steps, until Matt, still half-asleep, was too tired, and Mello, wide-awake, was too tired of losing.

When Mello and Matt were eighteen years old, and everything had changed, Mello grabbed his hand, not waiting for an answer, and guided him onto their bed. And they danced a dance automatic and slow, the spaces between their ribs only hollow places now, to a silent song that was perhaps a little sad. They danced with their mouths shut and eyes wide open, a resignation in the familiar way that their hands connected.

When Mello and Matt were nineteen years old, the smoker drove alone, shoulders relaxed despite his building tension. When he stopped his car and stood tall and proud, he smirked a bit. And to a beat that was fast and harsh, for Mello, he danced his very last waltz.


	50. Invisible Leaf

**Characters: OOC Light, Kiyomi**

**Genre: Crack. Pure, unadulterated, cocaine, high-degree, street-sold, mgg-induced crack.**

**A/N: 100 reviews? You guys are amazing. Let's not acknowledge the review-to-chapter ratio, heh... I still love you guys. :3 I'd like to give a special shout-out to AngelOfShadows2.0, my new official internet buddy! Hey, there.*derp***

* * *

Light was a student that seemed to always pay attention in class, work hard, study diligently. He was dedicated to his work, Kiyomi thought. It was the reason she found him so attractive (aside from the usual reasons): his intellect and, above all, honesty was what would make him a good and faithful husband for any woman lucky enough to have him.

He was also relatively sane, compared to most of the boys that attended their highschool.

Most of the time.

Maybe.

She supposed that we all have our days.

It was just that most "days" do not involve an imaginary article of flora.

"Look," Light whispered to her across their shared desk. "I have an _invisible leaf_."

Kiyomi coughed delicately into her hand.

"No, really," Light continued. "_Look at it._ Oh wait, you can't. Know why? Because it's_ invisible_."

Kiyomi, again, pretended not to hear. She didn't like it when Light acted so unprofessionally.

"I'm hiding! I'm hiding with my invisible leaf!"

Kiyomi turned to him. "You really are bored out of your mind, aren't you?"

Light's face suddenly went completely serious. "_You have no idea_."

* * *

**Lastly, I just finished a kick-ass essay (yes, for school) that dedicates four pages to Mello's inferiority complex and how it affects the plot of ****_Death Note._**** Normally, I wouldn't make you guys read an essay, but this one is about Mello! :D I'm going to publsh it somewhere. It's either going to go as a chapter in here, or on fictionpress. It's your call! Please let me know if you personally would like to read it in a review. Thankies. :3 **


	51. Silence

**Characters: Matt, Mello, Near**

**Genre: Interpretation/Slight Angst/AU (Halle not being involved)  
**

**A/N: Oh ho, a bit of one-sided Near/Mello, eh? Oh, yes. I went there. I've missed writing in Near's POV...**

* * *

Pacifying the burnin, angry power that was Mello was never exactly my specialty. Nonetheless, I steeled myself and called the number I knew to be the contact to his apartment.

I was answered with a sharp (but, sadly, customary) "what do you want?"

I sighed inaudibly. "I have a plan."

He halted, clearly surprised at my (for once) unmasked voice on the other end. "... I told you not to contact me. I don't consort with enemies."

"You have many enemies," I pointed out mildly. "And yet, your only friend is staying with you now, correct?"

"If you bring him into this-"

"You were the one that brought him into it first."

"... I can't talk about this here."

"Is he there with you now?"

"Yes," he answered tightly. It was a uniform 'yes,'one that could have been used for an associate or a commander. Say what I will about Mello, but he is always stunningly elegant. "You care about him," I said.

Mello swallowed and otherwise remained silent.

"I'm surprised that you would allow yourself to be compromised by that sort of weakness," I commented. "Keep in mind that my plan will not harm him."

"And me?"

"That depends on how you choose to follow it through." I threaded a finger through my hair and began to twirl. "Someone must die."

"Him or me." Mello chuckled darkly.

"That is the general idea, yes."

"You have to be sure," he said in a way I'm sure he thought was threatening. "It can't be.. him."

"You never fail to surprise me M," I told him.

"I know. I'll do it. If this thing really works. Tell me, and we'll have a deal."

I smiled. No matter how much he wanted to ignore it, there was indeed an honest and self-sacrificing human in Mello's heart.

It would have been easier for me if I'd seen this coming. I hadn't. The world was suddenly all too large, with too many people and too little time. I felt nauseous, and... a little disappointed. I wasn't sure if I hated it. Suddenly, I didn't know much of anything. I expected myself to get scared, but really, I only felt tired. Tired, wanting to be covered in an eternal blanket of snow.

But I told the strange creature on the other end my plan, and hung up before he could catch wind of the absurd notion that I actually had those things called feelings. He;d never known, and I didn't really want him to.

Naught but a few hours later did I receive a call of my own.

"Hey, Near."

I held on tight to the curl of my hair. "Matt."

"Mello... you're gonna get him killed, aren't you?"

I breathed through my nose. Tired, so tired...

"I'm going to go."

"I know."

"I'll help him."

"I know."

"I think... you understand," he told me. "Neither of us really... _care_ about stuff, you know? But... I do, about him. Mello. And I think you sorta do, too."

"I know," I said, "I know. I know."

"Don't tell him. He needs me for this. I know."

I hung up, my hair unable to stop my finger from quivering.

My plan, of course, was flawed. They both died, as I ultimately knew they would. They both died for Mello.

And I, as I knew I would be, was left in silence.


	52. It Chose Mello

**Characters: Mello, Rod Ross**

**Genre: Humor Something**

**A/N: I literally JUST had this idea as I was getting some chocolate from my cupboard. If you don't know the meme this chapter references, please familiarize yourself with it.**

* * *

"So, Mello," Ross started as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "What are your exact motives for joining our little family?"

"I didn't choose the thug life," the blond answered simply. "The thug life chose me."


	53. Flawed Things

**Characters: L and Light**

**Genre: Romance/Hate/However-the-fudge you chose to interpret their weird-as-hell relationship**

**A/N: Ah, LxLight. It's so nice to return to my OTP after so long without it. *sighs luxuriously***

* * *

From the moment he met him, L hated Light from the bottom of his heart that, frankly, he hadn't fully been aware of until that moment.

The prospect of Light being Kira wasn't what infuriated him so; in fact, L was grateful for the genocidal man with a god complex, whomever he may be. Kira was a fascinating person to chase, and L was glad for the excitement.

L wasn't jealous, either. The amount of girls that seemed to cling to the boy was merely another reason to suspect his manipulative nature, seeing as Light clearly did not deter them from doing so.

It was not one trait that annoyed him. He did not mind his OCD, his anal drive to study, the magazines he kept in his room.

No; it was that Light Yagami was simply too perfect.

He was too perfect to be Kira, and was so innocent that it almost increased L's warranted suspicion. He was too beautiful, to hard-working, too much of a good boy, too perfectly-dressed for any occasion. His hair was too perfect. His test scores were too perfect. The methodically casual way in which he scrubbed himself in the shower was too perfect. He lied so well and so perfectly. He was so perfect that it was almost a flaw.

A perfect crime.

Such a person was simply not according to L's view of logic. It became his sole mission to track down what tiny flaw that inhuman heart did hold.

L had been told in the past that he was obsessive, and he didn't object. When he took interest in something, he was bound to chase after it and not let it rest until he grew bored.

Eventually, to his greatest triumph, he found small flaws that made him delighted: how Light's skin did scar underneath his handcuff, how his hair was messy in the morning, how he once slipped and used a slightly improper conjugation in his English. How he managed to steal Light's breath away when they kissed, and how he could become unraveled at one small touch on one particular spot on his neck. These precious jewels of information, L never forgot.

He had his favorite, though, his favorite by far, and that was the smile Light gave him as he lay in the boy's- he was still just a boy, wasn't he?- arms. The moment he knew he was dying, the most demonic, twisted smile marred Kira's once-perfect features, showing arrogance that they had both always known was there, under such a beautiful surface. In this, L knew, in part, that he had won his battle, too. And L... L loved it.


	54. Blue Lips

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Regina Spekter's "Blue Lips."**

**Characters: Matt and Mello**

**Genre: Songfic**

**A/N: This chapter was inspired by wearing tinted goggles at a pool and the song mentioned above, which is very beautiful.**

* * *

Mail didn't normally hang onto things; he liked to forget. He liked to not care. He couldn't let go of one thing, though, and that was his goggles. _For swimming_, his father told him, as he handed him the object with the orange-tinted lenses. As soon as Mail put them on, the world was brighter, sunnier. Everything looked happy. When he had his goggles, he knew that everything would be all right- that their one-room apartment was big enough for three, and that he wouldn't be hungry forever. It would work out... right?

The public swimming pool became more and more frequented as little Mail begged to go more and more often, just as an excuse to see the sunny, golden side of the world, sepia-tinted perfection.

Water, however, was unforgiving when there wasn't a cement floor nearby.

_Blue lips, blue veins._

His parents' eyes were lifeless that winter, trapped under the sheet of ice.

_They took a step-_

Everything broke.

_- but then felt tired._

_They said, "we'll rest a little while."_

Mail stared and stared, no tears, no... anything.

_But when he tried to walk again, he wasn't a child._

He was found on the ice, frostbitten but not shivering, lying next to them on the frozen water that refused to crack under his tiny weight. He was taken, comforted, and shipped away, taking only his goggles with him.

_And all the people hurried fast, real fast, and no one ever smiled._

He kept them on from then on. He preferred to see the world in orange instead of blue, in fake happiness instead of true sadness. His world was artificial: pixelated adventures, lying about study habits, false happiness, false hope, false relaxation. He was always tense inside, relaxed on the outside, like a Tootsie Roll Pop gone wrong.

His roommate was rather angry with him. Mail saw that Mello saw through him- he understood that. He understood that Mello showed what he tried to contain, and contained what he tried to show. He could understand.

So when, in a screaming fit one day, Mello ripped off his precious goggles, he wasn't mad. He just blinked, the world tinted blue after so long becoming accustomed to orange. Mello's eyes were almost purple.

_Blue lips, blue veins._

He only smiled.

"Your eyes are green?"

"Crazy, huh?"

_Blue: the color of our planet from far, far away._


	55. Promises

**Characters: L and Mello, mentions of Beyond**

**Genre: Friendship/Family?**

**A/N: I've wanted to write an L and Mello fic for a while now.**

* * *

L was attached to many things, but not many of them were people. However, he was always quite fond of the children of Wammy's House. He remembered when he was like them. He could understand their kinks and quirks, and while others might have called them strange, L only indulged them. One child in particular, he was especially fond of, and that was little Mello.

Ten years old, sitting with his knees drawn up on his bed, black cotton hanging loosely off him, he bit into the chocolate bar that L gave him- his last chocolate bar, one he'd been saving.

L thought that the reason he was so fond of Mello was that the blond child was everything L was, and yet everything that L _wasn't _and wished to be. Mello was intelligent, driven, obsessed, antisocial, removed. And yet... he was also passionate, hard-working, and capable of handling social situations, even if he did not place himself within them could love. He could be loved.

And L saw the glint in his eyes: that glint of hunger and anger that he'd seen somewhere else so long ago. He was still heavy with the memories of that glint.

So he told him. He told Mello everything.

The blond licked the chocolate off his fingers when L was finished. "So you caught him! Good riddance, he was weird. I hope he rots!" he proclaimed vehemently. Then again, Mello did everything vehemently.

"Yes, Beyond Birthday was certainly strange," L mused. "But in the end, Mello, I hope you take a lesson from this."

Mello cocked his head. "What lesson?"

"Out of jealousy, we can all fall prey to our darkest side," L murmured, gazing intently at his twiddling toes. "I want you to remember that, Mello."

He could feel the blond's frown. "Huh?"

L looked up then into eyes that looked angelic at first, baby blue, silver-tinted. But he still saw that hunger, that passion, that fire, the potential for things both great and terrible...

He scooted closer and wrapped his skinny arms around the child-turned-orphan-turned-competitor, and said, "I'll be leaving soon, to find Kira. I promise you I'll catch him, but this is goodbye for now, Mello, and I want you to promise me something in return."

"Yeah, L?"

"Mihael, never kill anyone."

"Sure, I promise."


	56. One-Hundred Percent

**Characters: Matt, Mello**

**Genre: A bit of romance, A bit of angst, a bit of fluff. Purely plot bunny.**

**A/N: To what I'm sure is your surprise, I AM NOT DEAD, MY FRIENDS! I've had a crazy July. August will hopefully be slightly less so... but I doubt it. Writing project are piling up, all waiting anxiously to be written, and I just don't have enough time yo do everything that I want to do... but I've managed to update this, and I do plan to continue doing so, so you haven't gotten rid of me yet! I hope you enjoy this chapter, at least. As always, please review.**

* * *

It hadn't happened exactly how he'd imagined it, really, and Matt had been imagining it since he was about twelve.

He sat, now, on the rusty, creaking fire escape at the top of the apartment building, staring into the distance, a cigarette between his lips and another behind his ear, lighter at the ready and vest zipped up.

He used to imagine things happening in what he thought was every way possible; maybe he would start, maybe Mello would would. Maybe Mello would top, maybe he would. Maybe it would be hard and fast, or maybe it would be slow and sweet and gentle. Maybe they'd be kinky as hell, or cheesy and romantic. Maybe it would be raining. It could be nighttime. Maybe he' d run his hands through that golden hair while it happened. Maybe Mello would kiss him everywhere. Maybe they would whisper soft, little things to each other.

But he hadn't really expected things to hapen the way they had.

Then again, he hadn't really expected Mello to run away from Wammy's House those four years ago (almost five, now), and he hadn't expected him to change this much.

He had changed, too. He was sluttier, more deadly, more mature, and he had that scar now that painted his face like a shadow on a lake. More importantly, he was just more... focused. He was no longer the screaming tornado of mood swings and fervent, obsessive work that he'd been at Wammy's. He was so in-control that it was scary. His face was hard, his body composed, his eyes more steel than stormclouds.

And yet, he was just the Mello that Matt always knew: he was still arrogant and forceful and fearless. He was still insecure and volatile and scared. So overwhelming, and yet so small inside.

Matt finished his fourth cigarette, rubbing the ash into old, black metal. His legs swung down from the bars, a giant's feet floating above a tiny model Los Angeles.

How strange it was to be back in America. He hadn't been in this country since he was three, he remembered as he flicked his lighter to his next cigarette with expertise. He was raised in an apartment complex not unlike this one: small, crumbling, but not too bad to spend your days in- hearing the noises of the neighbors, smelling the smog and admiring the surprisingly artistic graffiti. He had one Gameboy then, if he recalled correctly, and he'd fiddle with it distractedly as he ate TV dinners, eyes flickering to _Indiana Jones_ on the screen. He didn't remember much about his parents, but he knew that his dad ruffled his hair and called him "sport," and that his mom kept trying to make him make friends while she briskly sighed and lit another cigarette.

America had a feeling that Matt wasn't sure he liked, but definitely fit in with: loud, fast, proud, and slightly unbalanced; like looking at the world through tinted lenses, you could never see everything quite right.

Matt blew curls of smoke into the air, closing his eyes and remembering the night before. Or really, he guessed it was this morning? Whatever, it felt like night, but it was really that inky, silent time between night and morning. Mello had walked into his little room (a fraction of their apartment), and it had caught his attention because Mello never just "walked" into a room. He stormed in, or snuck in. As with every thing he did, he was extremely bipolar.

Not this time. This time, he just came in.

Matt had mumbled, "Wha, M'lo, 'm sleepin'," and the blonde had just gone, "yeah, yeah," and took off his coat. By the half-light of the streetlamps shining through the window, Matt hadn't been able to see very well, but he got the general idea that Mello took off everything. And then he was cold, because his blankets were tossed off, and before he knew it, Mello was inside him.

It had hurt. It was also pretty nice. And he'd warmed up. It was just...

Matt oppened his eyes again, sighing out more smoke. It was just not how he'd imagined it. He never could have imagined it, really, because the way Mello had acted was just so un-_Mello_-like. His deeds often seemed spontaneous, but there was usually meticulous planning down to the very last detail in every one of Mello's ideas.

This had just seemed... random.

Not that Matt hadn't liked it, it just wasn't- _fantastic_, was all.

He swung his legs a little faster and bit the inside of his cheek. The paper of his cigarette felt soggy and old on his tongue.

He remembered that Mello's tongue had felt heavy in a way that made it hard for him to breathe. Maybe it was because he'd never even kissed anyone before, maybe it was because he had still been half-asleep, but he'd felt strange. Just weird.

"Hey," he heard behind him, and he turned quickly. His head, throbbing slightly, did't appreciate it. Matt poked his chin out of his vest like a turtle.

"Hey," he said back, gazing up.

Mello was dressed to the nines, in full leather and fur; cloaked in night. Matt wished he could see his face better, but his goggles were smudging and he didn't feel like cleaning them.

Thick, black boots clanged on the fire escape next to him, and Mello sat down beside him, graceful as always, with one arm draped over one bent leg. The other leg, closer to Matt, dangled over the rungs. The redhead looked down and watched two styles of boots swing in synchronization.

The black, high-heeled one kicked a fur-lined one, and Matt said in a deadpan, "Ow."

"You must be in so much pain," the blonde replied in an equally sarcastic monotone, and fingers chocolate-dipped in gloves reached over and snatched his cigarette out of his lips, taking a short breath of nicotine for himself. Matt watched his velvet lips close around the paper almost prettily. When Mello breathed, it was like an answer to a math equation, some thread of programming done exceptionally well; a click of something like relief, something like pride, and a little something like loss, swirling together into a picture of loveliness.

"I guess you want to know why I did it," he said, neuroticism that only Matt could detect in the tension of his vocal chords.

Matt nodded.

"Well, I don't know," Mello stated, looking intently at a spot of sky. "I just don't know." Matt stayed silent as mello threw his cigarette over the railing. He didn't protest, just watched it go down... down... "I thought I had it all planned out, you know," the blonde said, clasping his hands together. "I knew what I was going to do. Known for a while."

Matt blinked.

"But I didn't exactly have the guts to do it right, I guess. So I just went ahead and did it." Dirty gold hair hung in front of the man's face.

"You... planned," Matt repeated.

"Yeah, I planned, and apparently, I failed," Mello said, defensiveness and volume creeping into his voice. Now he sounded like himself.

"Nah," Matt said, suddenly smiling, casting his eyes to look for that place in the sky that Mello apparently found so fascinating. "I think you did good."

"Oh?" Mello laughed shortly and bitterly. "Well, I've liked you since I was thirteen, so I guess that's an accomplishment."

Matt's smile grew wider. It felt nice to smile. "Yeah, well, I've loved you since I was eight. So there, I win." He punched his friend in the shoulder.

"... Brilliant," Mello finally declared, if a little cynically. "I get an A-plus, then?"

Matt turned towards him, and Mello glanced at him, pale blue eyes for once showing nervousness.

Matt leaned forward, put a hand on either side of his face and kissed him firmly on the mouth. And although the angle was awkward and he wasn't all that talented, Mello tasted like chocolate. After nineteen years existing on Earth, Matt for once felt _right_.

When he slowly pulled away, he murmured softly, "One-hundred percent."


End file.
